Chapter 22 #2
And I realize, sitting there squished between Silas and Jett, that this is his circle. His brothers and the few people he chooses to let in. People who actually matter to him beyond hockey and obligations.
And he brought me into it without hesitation.
The weight of that sits heavy in my chest. It feels terrifying and wonderful in equal measure.
"You're quiet," Silas murmurs near my ear while Jett and Hunter argue about whose goal was more impressive.
"I’m just processing."
"Processing what?"
I look up at him. "This. All of this. It's a lot."
His jaw ticks. "Too much?"
"No. It just feels... significant."
Understanding flashes in his eyes. His head dips. "Mhm."
He slides his hand around my shoulders and leaves it there, like planting a possessive flag that dares other men to even look my way. It sends a shiver down my spine. Silas glances at me, assuming that I'm cold, and tucks me closer against his warm body. He smells sweaty and masculine.
Am I crazy for wanting to roll around in his scent?
Later, after we've eaten too many fries and Jett has finally been cut off from milkshakes, we walk back to Silas's truck. The Seattle evening is growing chilly. The stars are barely visible through the city’s light pollution.
Silas catches my hand and laces our fingers together like it's the most natural thing in the world. This is boyfriend shit. I stare at our hands, swallowing.
One part of me wants Silas to sweep me off of my feet and carry me into the sunset. The other part, the scared little girl inside my head, worries that this is exactly how I fell into a relationship with Enzo. He never asked me to be his girlfriend. He never really even asked me to be his wife.
I woke up to Enzo sliding a ring on my finger and was so breathless that somebody chose me, I didn't bother asking the right questions. Namely, do you hate me? So much grief could've been avoided if Enzo answered that one.
Si touches my arm and I practically jump out of my skin. "Huh?"
"You okay?" His voice is rough.
My cheeks heat. "Yeah. Just thinking."
"About?"
I stop walking and turn to face him fully under the glow of the streetlight. "You brought me to street hockey. Your family thing with your brothers and Juliet. That means something big."
His jaw ticks. "Yeah. It does."
Not really what I was looking for. "Silas..."
"I want you in my life, Scout." He cups my face with his free hand. "We slept together, but I’ve wanted more for a long time. Since we were in college, before you asked me out. I fucked it up because I’m a giant chicken.” He pauses and blows out a breath.
“Now I’m getting a second chance and I don’t want to blow it.
I need you to be a part of my life." He hesitates again, his eyes boring into mine. "Is that okay with you?"
Tears sting my eyes without warning. "Yeah. It's more than okay."
God. I had no idea that Silas had feelings for me for so long. Because he turned me down, I just automatically assumed that I’d made up the chemistry that I felt between us. Turns out I was right all along.
A pang of sadness hits me. If Silas had said yes when I asked him out, I might not have met Enzo. Certainly I wouldn’t have been swept off my feet by him. What kind of idiot would I be to let a guy like Silas go for a pushy creep like Enzo?
Then again, there was a lot I didn’t know before I said yes to Enzo’s proposal.
"Good deal." He kisses my forehead gently. "Because you're stuck with me now. I live by the law of no take-backs."
I laugh. The sound comes out wet and shaky. "Lucky me."
"Lucky me," he corrects firmly. Then he kisses me properly, slow and sweet and claiming in the middle of the sidewalk where anyone could see.
My breath catches. “Can I ask you something?”
Silas tilts his head. “Shoot.”
“Are we like…” I feel so dumb having to ask this. “Dating?”
His eyebrows rise and he slowly repeats my question. “Are we dating?”
“Yeah, you know. Are we exclusive? Am I… your, um…”
His lips twitch. “My girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” I wrinkle my nose. “I guess.”
“Scout.” He leans down, brushing his lips over mine in a way that sets loose a riot of butterflies in my stomach. “You’re mine.”
My heart pounds. Against his lips, I ask, “And does that mean we’re exclusive?”
“Yes, Pretty Girl. There’s no one else. Just you.”
I press up on my tiptoes, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him down to me. Our mouths meet, slow and passionate, the kiss less insistent but no less intense. Damn, Silas knows how to kiss.
When we part, I realize that I have more than a crush on him. It’s not love yet, but it will be. It’s obviously heading there. My feelings are so sharp right now, I have the sensation of walking over shards of glass… but in a good way? I can’t explain it better than that.
When we get back to the condo, I'm buzzing with emotion I don't quite know how to process. Overwhelmed in the best possible way, happy in a way that feels almost dangerous. Because what if it gets taken away? The things that feel best never stay.
I change into silky sleep shorts, keep Si's hoodie, brush my teeth, then climb into his bed without asking if it's okay or second-guessing myself. Because this is where I belong now, apparently.
He follows a few minutes later, fresh from his own shower. "Mm."
He pulls me against his chest and buries his nose in my hair like he missed me in the half hour I was showering. I exhale slowly, trying not to pinch myself.
"Today was good," I whisper into the dark.
"Yeah. It was."
"Hunter and Jett are great. Juliet's amazing."
"They liked you. In your new position as my plus-one, I mean."
"Yeah? How can you tell?"
"Because Jett didn't roast you too hard. That's his version of approval." His hand strokes through my curls, gentle and repetitive. "And Hunter only warns people off when he cares about them. So when he cornered me after and told me not to screw this up, that was basically his blessing."
When he pets me like this, he turns off my brain. I smile against his chest. "Your family is weird."
"Yeah. But they're mine."
"And I'm yours?" The question comes out smaller than I intend. More vulnerable.
"Yeah, Pretty Girl. You're mine. Is that what you want?"
"More than anything."
He sounds relieved. "Good."
The words should scare me. And they do feel like too much too fast. But they also feel like coming home after being lost for years.
Sleep pulls at me, wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. Maybe I've finally found where I belong.